


A Different Color of Bullshit

by scarvesandjumpers



Series: Guidance [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Recall, Pranks, but thats ok, genji pranks people and hanzo takes it as a personal offense, hanzo will get there eventually, hints of mchanzo but not the focus, probably not totally canon compliant, shimadas are emotionally stunted at birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarvesandjumpers/pseuds/scarvesandjumpers
Summary: Five months ago Hanzo discovered his brother was alive. Now an eager invitation to join Overwatch is accepted, and Hanzo is unsure. Genji's teammates - friends - claim that his brother is far from the child Hanzo knew so many years ago and all thanks to his master.Hanzo is, understandably, doubtful.Calm does not mean quiet. Enlightenment does not require the loss of silliness, of fun.He'll figure it out****In which Hanzo discovers that holy shit, people can change without losing who they are, that he is not beyond forgiveness, and that peace comes to those who seek it.





	1. Hopeful Hints

"So! Are you excited to see your brother again, Hanzo?"  
  
The plane was cramped, Hanzo's knees pressed to his chest in his tiny passenger's seat. The headset he was wearing was tight and hot, and as he heard Lena's crackling voice through it he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his jaw. He didn't respond, turning his gaze out the window and swallowing back a ball of nerves in his throat. Lena glanced at him in the mirror above her head and gave him an encouraging smile.  
  
Excited. That wasn't the word Hanzo would use.. To see Genji again - to see him without blades and arrows drawn - it was... an overwhelming feeling. And not necessarily a good one.  
Lena took his silence in stride, recovering quickly. "Well. _He's_ excited. It's all he's been talking about for weeks."  
  
"Hn."  
  
"No, really! It is!" She let out a giggle, the sound muffled through the headset. "I haven't seen him so excited since he found out Master Zenyatta was going to join up. Now _that_ was a fun week."  
  
Zenyatta. That was a new name, one he'd heard quite a bit since his correspondence with Winston started. Genji's master, or whatever. The mere thought made Hanzo scoff. As if. Genji was never good with authority, pacifistic or not. And if the Shambali monks were anything like the various instructors and teachers they'd dealt with as children and teens... well. He wished the Omnic luck.  
  
"I imagine his... _master_ was dreading it," Hanzo replied stiffly. Lena's tinny laughter was the last thing he expected in response.  
  
"Oh, God, no. _He_ was just as excited - more, actually, I think! The two immediately ran off to meditate together. We didn't see them till the next morning, it was really very sweet!"  
  
Wait.  
  
_What?_  
  
"Genji _willingly_ meditates?" Hanzo stared at Lena's reflection in the headmirror with wide, disbelieving eyes, and the pilot grinned. "Absolutely!" She chirped. "They meditate together all the time! Those two are basically inseparable. They're always meditating, or talking philosophy, or tending to their garden - " Garden? Genji _hated_ gardening, let the plants their instructors tasked them with caring for (to learn patience, and discipline) die out of spite, claimed it was too boring, too slow - ".... sparring, talking."  
  
"That does not sound like the Genji I knew," Hanzo admitted after a beat of tense (on his side, at least) silence. Lena glanced at him again in the headmirror, lips pursed into a tight smile, and Hanzo realized quite abruptly that everyone at the base knew. They knew. They knew what he tried to do - what he _did_ do. Lena's look of guilty pity said it all.  
  
Hanzo jerked his gaze away, frowning hard. This was a mistake.  
  
"....Well. That's alright, luv." Lena looked away from the mirror, fiddling with the controls as they approached Gibraltar. "It's been a long time. It's normal to change, innit?" In the corner of his eye, she shrugged. "It's _good_ to change. And Genji's changed for the better from what I've heard. This'll be good. You'll see."  
  
Lena's voice was warm, excited. Confident. Hanzo reached out for his single duffel bag of belongings, listening to Lena announce their arrival and the local time as she steered for the landing strip of his new home.  
  
Different. Better.  
  
Well, Hanzo thought to himself. We shall see.


	2. A Bad (New) First Impression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please pardon any mistakes, i have a friend whose looking through it for me later but im really excited and want to get this chapter out asap.

When they land it's just on the cusp of 1500 hours. Cold, but not biting. Hanzo listens to Lena rattle off the usual landing jargon, looking out at the small group of operatives that have gathered to greet him. Among them is his brother - all sharp lines and angles, LED lights in bright neon green. Some things never change, he supposes. Hanzo waits for Lena to leave the plane first, then follows, feeling unusually uncomfortable in his own skin as all eyes fell to him. Lena made straight for Winston, the friendly, hulking ape eager to hear about the stopover she spent in Japan while waiting for Hanzo to get his affairs in order. Nothing for it.

Hanzo stepped forward.

Genji's face was covered, but his body language was something Hanzo was fluent in. He was bouncy, thrumming with energy and anticipation, though far more contained than anything Hanzo remembered from him. He bowed deeply to Hanzo as his elder brother stopped before him, and Hanzo did the same. "Hanzo," his voice was warm, somehow, even with the echoed filter, "It is good to see you."

"Genji," was all he said. He wasn't bothered by this.

His brother stepped forward, palms up and open and gestured around them. "I am glad to have you with us! Here, let me introduce you to our friends." Friends. Hm.

They all knew what he did. If these people were as fond of Genji as he thought, he doubted he had a friend in any of them. That was natural for the Shimada brothers, though. Genji had always attracted people, had a small throng of admirers and comrades in his school days and young adulthood that adored him - that he adored in turn. Hanzo always rubbed people the wrong way, too serious, too quiet. It never much bothered him before, and it wouldn't bother him now.

Winston and Lena were the only Overwatch members he'd met beforehand, so most of the curious faces in front of him were new. He committed their names to memory as Genji pointed them out - Hana Song, Commander Morrison, Jesse Mcree. Angela - he said her name with warmth. The woman that saved his life. Hanzo tried not to look at her directly, but as Genji introduced him to two more of his friends - Lucio, Miss Ana - he felt her critical eyes boring into his skull.

He was introduced to the infamous Tekhartha Zenyatta last.

"Peace be upon you, Hanzo Shimada," the monk called warmly. He was hovering silently, head bowed as his brother dragged Hanzo towards him. Hanzo bowed back stiffly and did not return the sentiment. Neither Genji nor his master seemed the slightest bit bothered by his, arguably, unwelcoming nature. "It is good to see these brothers reunited." He casually rested a hand on Genji's shoulder, the other held open, palm up, towards Hanzo. "There is much to discuss, much to heal." A beat. He tilted his head to the side, and Genji's gaze seemed drawn to the movement. "All in good time."

"Indeed, master."

Zenyatta excused himself with a promise to meet up with Genji later for their evening meditation, though the reassurance seemed more a formality than anything. Hanzo was quietly horrified at the thought of Genji being consistant with anything involving sitting still for more than ten minutes, but kept his thoughts to himself.

Hanzo was shepherded to the mess by Genji and his friends, their friendly chatter fading into the background as Hanzo did what he did best; observe. He observed how Genji talked with his friends, how they interacted with him and around him.

He was polite. Calm. Friendly, but not overly so. Gone were the crude jokes, the outrageous behavior. Gone was his obnoxious, defiant attitude. He watched Genji discuss an upcoming mission with Commander Morrison and Winston, watched as he listened to suggestion and orders and, amazingly, agreed to them, with astonishment.

Perhaps what Lena said was true.

For the first time since accepting the invitation to join with this group of illegal freedom fighters, Hanzo felt... hope. He kept this to himself as he stood in line behind Hana and Lucio, waited patiently for the automaton behind the line to give him the food he wasn't planning on eating.

Perhaps he could ask to join Genji for meditation. If Zenyatta could do this much for his man-child of a brother, maybe he could calm the rage inside of him, the guilt that kept him awake at night and made his hands shake when he thought of drawing a blade. Perhaps they could talk. He loved his brother once. He wanted to again.

The question was on the tip of his tongue as he followed Genji to their seating, wetted his lips and steeled himself for the agony that was asking for help and sat down -

PFFFFFFTTT-TT-TTT-PFFTTT!

Silence.

And then Genji's familiar, rage-inducing, obnoxious laughter.

As his brother practically fell out of his seat with giddiness, Hanzo straightened up and looked down at his seat. A whoopie cushion.

A fucking whoopie cushion.

As strangers laughter joined in with his brother's, Hanzo quickly untangled himself from the plastic bench he'd sat at, knocking the rubber toy onto the ground and yanking up his duffel bag. He turned and left the way he'd come in, blood pumping in his veins, barely resisting the urge to kick his brother in the face as he went. Giggly apologies followed him out of the room. He ignored them.

Nothing ever changed.

 

*****

 

When Genji was fifteen he was allowed to sit in on his first meeting with the Shimada elders. He'd been excited not for the honor of his new responsibilities to the family, but for the chance to know all of the secret things his brother got to know that he didn't. He'd never cared much for the family's affairs, much preferring to simply wave the family name around for free food and amusements, something Hanzo thought was tasteless, but within his rights as a Shimada. His brother came to him asking for information, surprisingly earnest in his need to make a good impression on the men and women of his family that thought him nothing more than a childish brat. Hanzo, foolishly, thought it a sign of maturity.

When it turned out Genji simply wanted to know how much time he had to sneak buzzers, whoopie cushions, and stink-bombs underneath their seat cushions he was embarrassed for having played a part of it, however unintentional.

The brothers were thought to be a unit in Genji's scheme and were both banned from all future meetings for nearly a year.

Hanzo was humiliated, scolded, then beaten to a pulp by their father for daring to allow his brother to dishonor their elders. He was the eldest; it was his responsibility to keep Genji in line.

Genji slept in while he was recovering, then snuck out to meet up with his friends.

 

*****

 

Lena showed him to his quarters.

"He really didn't mean anything by it," She said, a forced cheer in her voice that made Hanzo's head hurt. He clenched his hands into fists, shoving open the window at the far side of his small room, kicking a chair out of his way to make room for his things. "He was just trying to ease the tension a bit, I bet. We're all friends 'round here, is the thing. Like to keep things casual. Fun! We're already breaking the law, doesn't mean we have to be all grim about it, yeah?"

Hanzo upended his duffel bag onto his thin mattress. Lena winced.

"Well. Er. I guess I'll leave you to settle in, then. Dinner's coming up in a bit. Maybe you two can talk then?" She took a few steps backwards, leaving the doorway and wringing her fingers. She bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, and Hanzo was suddenly reminded of Genji - fucking Genji, restless and always moving and fucking annoying -

He slammed the door in her face and didn't feel a bit bad about it.

After a bit of sake and launching a few arrows into the wall to release some of his anger, Hanzo decided it would be best to try to meditate. He was sure Genji was shamming meditation with his stupid Omnic mentor, and the day he was shown up by his idiot of a brother was the day he laid down and died. He spent a few hours in silent meditation - or at least an angry attempt at it - then fooled himself into thinking he was going to sleep. He was all nerves, hyper-aware of his surroundings and how unfamiliar they were. The whoosh of wind against the aging base was strange to him. The walls were thick, at least. If anyone was living in a neighboring room, he didn't hear them.

He 'woke' before the sun rose and shouldered his arrows and bow, clambering out the window and scaling up to the roof with ease. It didn't take long to find the training room that he assumed they had. He didn't bother dropping down to the entrance proper - didn't have a key or code that would allow him to enter - and simply climbed his way up over the barrier and landed neatly on the other side.

If tall walls were the height of Overwatch security, no wonder they fell apart.

He notched an arrow, rolling his neck as a sense of calm overtook him. This, this was something he could do, something he could control. The arrows made contact with the swinging targets with a satisfying clang. The center target swung round and round. When it stopped, he shot at it again, starting with the center target and then moving to each surrounding metal piece. It was peaceful; a gentle breeze stirred his hair and ribbon and sent a flurry of feathers, leaves, and puffballs of pollen through the air, and the far off mountains were a pleasant sight to see. The sun was only just starting to rise. If he closed his eyes, he almost felt like he was back in Hanamura.

Stupid.

He returned to his training, sending a scatter of arrows onto the targets in front of him in a quick flurry. The sound of metal hitting metal was interrupted by some familiar laughter. He tensed, bow lax, but fingers itching to grab for an arrow. He followed the sound, eyes sharp, and finally spotted the source of the laughter.

On the roof of one of the far-off prop buildings in the training room sat Genji and Zenyatta. Their legs were folded, heads ducked together. If he strained, Hanzo could hear faint playful chatter between two synthetically filtered voices, though he couldn't make out what was said. He watched his brother, clothed in an over-large sweater and a pair of athletic shorts, lean in and pluck one of the large mala from around the monk's neck. He tossed it gently between agile fingers as his master spoke. Hanzo wondered if that was disrespectful - it seemed like it would be, and he wouldn't be surprised - though Zenyatta didn't seem upset.

As Zenyatta spoke, Genji's attention seemed to waver. He looked about, admiring the scenery much like his brother had just moments ago. A leaf fluttered into his chest, and he dropped the mala orb into his lap to grab at it. He twirled it between his fingertips. Ignoring his master, probably. Disrespectful child.

Genji reached out and tucked the leaf behind an exposed joint at the side of Zenyatta's faceplate. Hanzo heard him speak - then Zenyatta's laughter filled the room, unashamed and joyful, and Genji's followed.

Hanzo didn't stick around long enough to see what happened next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like two seconds after he left genji and zenyatta started making out lol


	3. Pranks Are Only Fun For The People Involved, The Series

  
  
The weeks following Hanzo's arrival at Gibraltar were boring, then hectic. At first he wasn't allowed to do so much as brush his teeth without written approval, as Winston hadn't yet figured out how to make the orientation process as streamlined as it was before the fall of Overwatch. He signed his name on more documents than he could process, and if it weren't for his extensive archery and martial arts training his hands would have been aching by the end of it.  
  
He was given passcode after passcode; to the mess, to the training room, to the showers, to the private kitchen, to the armory, to the common areas. He was a naturally organized person, so he had no problem with memorizing all of the codes and their corresponding rooms, but it was still somewhat overwhelming. Winston was enthusiastic, which was annoying and encouraging in turns. He didn't seem a stranger to the loud silent responses to his eagerness, which made sense after spending just a few minutes with the less than sociable veteran members.  
  
Hanzo avoided Genji at all costs. It wasn't a perfect solution - sometimes contact with his brother was inevitable, but Hanzo made no move to talk with him and Genji seemed to respect his wishes.  
  
That didn't mean Genji didn't find a way to drive him absolutely insane, of course  
  
*****  
  
After a few days he was allowed to join the group training sessions. Hanzo hadn't trained with another person since he and Genji were young men, much less a large group. The group consisted of Lena, Mei, Morrison, Genji, and himself. Hanzo stuck close to Lena and Morrison - Lena was familiar and only a bit annoying, and Morrison had absolutely no desire to get to know him which Hanzo appreciated. He followed Morrison's direction and tried to figure out how he would mesh with his teammates. He hadn't fought in a group since he was a child. Hadn't fought alongside anyone, period, since before - everything. It took time to adjust, especially since Genji, Lena, and Mei seemed determined to have their own little game of tag going during training, but he was thankful for it. It wasn't fun, not really, but it was - something.  
  
As their training came to a close, Genji, naturally, managed to make a spectacle of himself.  
  
They were having a group jog around the training room when it happened. They were in a small cluster together, Lena, Mei, and Genji taking the lead. "Lena!" He heard Genji chirp, a familiar challenge in his tone. "Race me! First to the doors wins!" Lena, never one to say no to a challenge (a fact that Hanzo had already picked up in the short time he'd known her) immediately blinked forward.  
  
"That's cheating!" Genji laughed, shooting off after her with a flick of the ribbon attached to his head. They dashed around the room, rounding corners and trying to trip the other - then, with a triumphant crow, Lena made to blink the rest of the distance to the door when a frosty fuzz filled the air - and Lena went sliding into the wall with an inelegant squeal.  
  
Genji and Mei's laughter filled the room. The group came to a halt as the source of Lena's embarrassment became obvious. Genji had swiped Mei's endothermic blaster and, with her blessing, had iced the floor ahead of them just in time for Lena to skid into the wall. She laughed it off, struggling to her feet and slip-sliding around as she tried to carefully navigate over to the doors. They grouped at the edge of the ice as Mei explained it would take a bit for the ice to thaw and melt, unlike with her ice walls, while Lena threatened a rematch  
  
Hanzo deftly leapt across the ice and punched his numbers into the keypad to let him out, uninterested in the playful teasing occurring behind him.  
  
*****  
  
Jesse McCree was an interesting creature.  
  
He had a casual way about him, somewhat lazy in his body and speech in a way that Hanzo had never been. He was always at ease, teasing or bantering with a teammate or calling out affectionate petnames that seemed to be designated as his. He was scrappy. Rugged.  
  
One might consider him handsome, he supposed, if you liked that sort of thing.  
  
Three months into his time with Overwatch and Hanzo had seen most of the current members in action, McCree more than once. He'd been impressed with his marksmanship, but it was Jesse who approached him first to ask about his bow, compliment his aim. They'd talked now and then since their first mission together, even outside of required training or practice sessions. After a short period of adjustment to his open, blunt ways (Were all Americans so loud with their thoughts and feelings?) Hanzo found himself with a friend. Somehow.  
  
It wasn't horrible.  
  
They never talked about Genji, for which he was thankful, though he was sure he knew about their past together. He didn't seem to hold it against him, since he was so free with his attention and companionship with both Hanzo and Genji. They simply didn't discuss his brother except in passing.  
  
It was easy, so Hanzo barely thought twice about agreeing to meet with McCree for target practice in the early evening. They spent a few long hours in the practice range, then did a few rounds of hand-to-hand to tire themselves out before dinner. A few hours, energy spent - a good session. They went to the showers together, and Hanzo kept his eyes firmly to himself - which was extra effort for no reason, what else would he look at? Nothing. Obviously.  
  
Jesse slipped on a slippery patch of tile and laughed. Hanzo heard a splash, the wet slap of skin-on-skin, and swallowed thickly, rushing through the last of his shower and marching out, eyes down.  
  
Hanzo dried and dressed in record time and headed straight for the mess, collecting his food and taking to his usual corner to eat, happily alone, though he almost, almost hoped Jesse would join him like he had been want to do lately. The didn't talk, exactly, but Jesse's chatter was a surprisingly soothing white noise.  
  
The mess was full, as most everyone gathered together for dinner at least, if not every other meal. Among them were a few unfamiliar faces, but he was surprised to see Zenyatta seated with those that Hanzo considered Genji's crowd - Lena, Lucio, Hana, Mei, Winston. He didn't need to eat - why join them?  
  
When Jesse finally made his appearance, however, it was. Off.  
  
His infamous hat, serape, and obnoxious belt were missing, leaving him in a time-soft red flannel and jeans. He was scowling, prosthetic hand ruffling his dusty hair, and Hanzo was - Unsettled. He definitely had this things during target practice, and he'd had them when they went to the showers - so what -  
  
"Howdy pardners!" Crowed a familiar, horrible, miserable voice. Hanzo groaned as all eyes turned to the menace that was his younger brother.  
  
Genji waddled into the room with an exaggerated bowlegged slump, Jesse's hat, serape, and belt slung over his pajama-clad body. He tipped his hat in the direction of his friends' table, earning giggles and wolf-whistles for his trouble. He ambled over to them, slouching against the table and talking in a horribly executed American accent, spouting out what he supposed were catchphrases of Jesse's.  
  
To Hanzo's surprise, though, Jesse didn't seem bothered. A bit annoyed, maybe. Bemused. But he laughed, shaking his head as Genji leaned in towards his master, purring, "I'm yer huckleberry," to the amused omnic, the blue lights on his faceplate fluttering pink as he laughed at his student's antics.  
  
"You find his.... imitation amusing?" Hanzo grumbled to his friend. "He is clearly mocking you." They'd been bruised for far less when they were children.  
  
Jesse shrugged, grinning. "Not really unkind when it comes from a friend, is it? More like teasin'." He shook his head again and pushed himself off from the table. "Better watch out. Face might stick that way if you keep at it." He winked at him - Hanzo scoffed - and made for Genji and their friends. Hanzo watched him snatch back his hat and smack the back of his giggling brother's head.  
  
*****  
  
Lucio was a ray of sunshine, and even Hanzo had a difficult time feeling annoyed with him. He was always smiling, always bouncy, music following him everywhere he went. He spent most of his afternoons in the sunnier of the common rooms, fiddling with his stolen weaponry and letting passersby sneak listens to whatever undiscovered musician he was currently fixated on. They never really spoke, but that was fine. Hanzo would make his way into the common room, exchange a nod with the young musician, and settle into a high, dark corner to read or write. Lucio would change his music to something a bit less fast-paced for a while - even better than a hello.  
  
Then there were the days where Genji would join him. He wasn't particularly loud with Lucio - mostly they'd work on their own respective projects and gush about music. It was a nice change compared to his normal over-eager bouncy nature.  
  
Today Lucio was joined by both Genji and his master. The omnic and cyborg had rushed into the room together about twenty minutes ago, giggling amongst each other and seemingly in a rush, which was odd. They'd gathered around Lucio, and while his brother and Lucio chatted Zenyatta fiddled with Lucio's music player, skipping between songs until he found one he seemed to like.  
  
Hanzo kept to himself - tucked up on top of a bookshelf out of sight today - but couldn't help but listen to their conversation.  
  
"You seem awfully pleased with yourself, Genji. Who'd you mess with today?"  
  
"How dare you!" Genji gasped, mock-serious. "Am I that much of a trouble maker in your eyes?"  
  
Zenyatta laughed. "Absolutely," He heard Lucio chirp back. The trio laughed, Genji weakly defending himself. Hanzo found himself smiling.  
  
He'd never heard Genji laugh so loudly, so frequently, as he did here. Even when they were children - hell, when Genji was a delinquent teen - he'd never laughed half this much, this openly. He'd never been reserved, exactly, but there was a distinct difference between how he acted then and how he acted now. It made Hanzo's chest ache, haunted with the familiarity.  
  
His musings were cut short by an animalistic roar of, "GENJI SHIMADA! ZENYATTA!" Followed by the heavy stomp, stomp, stomp of Winston's oversized feet.  
  
Hanzo shifted from his spot up above, peering over the edge and holding the shelf with a white-knuckled grip. He saw Genji and Zenyatta jump to their feet. " _A, kuso_! Zen!" Zenyatta reached out for his student's hand, and the ninja easily hoisted him onto his back and sprinted out of the room, their laughter following them out. Winston burst into the room, an offensively huge jar of uncapped peanut butter in hand.  
  
"Where'd they go?" Winston tossed the jar onto the floor as if it personally offended him and the plastic jar bounced off the wall and onto the tile floor. Lucio, beside himself with laughter, weakly pointed out the doorway the men in question had left through, and Winston was quick to follow, shouting after them.  
  
Curiosity got the better of Hanzo. He dropped down, watching Lucio drag himself up from the ground and wander over to the jar of peanut butter on the tile. Hanzo watched him take a quick taste with his little finger, watched him grimace.  
  
"What did Genji do this time?" Hanzo asked, arms crossed tight over his head. Disrespectful child. Winston was his superior!  
  
"Replaced it with organic peanut butter - you know, that soupy kind. Winston hates it. Though, I gotta tell you, Hanzo," he snorted, tossing the jar to the nearby bin. "Definitely wasn't Genji."  
  
Hanzo blinked. What? "Of course it was."  
  
"Nah. Genji's a sneaky ninja dude, but not that sneaky. Winston would have caught him with how long it would take to swap out Winston's Jif with this stuff. Definitely Zenyatta. Genji probably just kept him busy while he switched it. That's what they usually do, at least."  
  
Unbelievable.  
  
*****  
  
Of course, it made sense. Genji's unchanged behavior. His stupid sense of humor worsened. Of course Zenyatta would be a part of it. He'd been left in the care of an omnic that delighted in his childishness. His brother would never grow, would never mature with someone such as Zenyatta as his mentor. He found delight in Genji's behavior, seemed fond of it.  
  
He would never change.  
  
*****  
  
"You do not approve of my mentorship of your brother, do you, Mr. Shimada?"  
  
Hanzo jolted from his meditation, bow drawn and arrow notched and posed at the intruder's neck. Zenyatta hovered before him, expressionless faceplate shining in the moonlight. The air outside of the base was thin, crisp. Insects buzzed and chirped, and the sound of harsh winds fighting against the mountains in the distance were loud even now. Hanzo lowered his bow, straightening up with a scowl.  
  
"It is unwise to sneak up on a man who is armed, omnic," He hissed.  
  
"Understood," Zenyatta replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. It made Hanzo's skin crawl. "You have not answered my question, however. The discord radiates off of you like a thick cloud, but even more so when Genji and I are together. Can I ask why?"  
  
Hanzo huffed, shoving his arrow back into its quiver and turning his back on him. "I simply do not see the merit in encouraging his behavior," he snapped. "Your 'training' does little to improve his behavior. He is even worse than when he was a child."  
  
Zenyatta hummed thoughtfully, watching Hanzo settle back on his knees, determined to return to his meditation. If he ignored him long enough, he would leave - no creature, omnic or human, had infinite patience.  
  
So, naturally, Zenyatta lowered himself to the ground, hands cupped in his lap. "Your perception is clouded," he said serenely. He spotted a flowery weed in the grass under their feet and reached out, fingertip extended, petting at its white petals. "You seem to see laughter and happiness as flaws, Hanzo Shimada. You assume the worst of my sparrow."  
  
Sparrow.  
  
"What right do you have to call him that with such affection?" Hanzo spat. "You know not what you say, omnic. Genji is not worthy of his family name - or of the endearment you so casually throw around." Zenyatta looked up from the flower, staring at Hanzo with confusion, shoulders slumped, head tilted.  
  
"I'm afraid I disagree. A sorrowful history should not poison words that once held such warmth in meaning. Reclaiming the sparrow in Genji was as much an honor to his past as it is to his future. Besides," The omnic huffed out a warm laugh, scuffed shoulders shaking. "If I am not allowed to be fond of him, who is?" Zenyatta straightened up, curling his fingers pointer to thumb and gazing out at the mountains before them. "He is my boyfriend, after all."  
  
Hanzo stared at him in shock. "Boyfriend," he repeated dumbly. Surely he'd misheard. Genji had never been a stranger to experimentation - he could clearly remember walking in on him with men he'd snuck into the dojo for a late night tryst more than once - but....  
  
"Yes. Boyfriend." Zenyatta seemed amused with his shock. "But this is beside the point."  
  
"No," Hanzo gritted out. "No, this is exactly the problem!" He jumped to his feet, snatching up his bow and quiver, chest heaving, overwhelmed with rage. "You are meant to be his master, not his friend! A master must discipline, must punish, must be ruthless and strict, not - not in love with his pupil!" He gestured wildly, shaking. "You poison him! You poison him more and more each day with your coddling!"  
  
Zenyatta was quiet as he yelled, which only made him more upset. He reached out for the flower, gently plucking it from the ground and twirling it between delicate metal fingers. "I disagree," he said gently, airily. "A calm soul does not demand a quiet character. Enlightenment does not equate stoicy. Maturity is not the absence of joy. Misery is not superior to happiness." He reached out, rested a cool hand on Hanzo's shoulder as if his very world had not been shaken from its foundations the moment he began to speak. "We each craft our lives around memories of pain and loss, of elation and euphoria, and through embracing all paths our lives have taken, there we find ourselves truly at peace. Genji was not beyond hope when he came to me broken and bleeding, so filled with discord that his every breath was like a thousand deaths. He was not beyond help. And though you might be whole in body, you did not leave Hanamura unscathed - nor are you beyond help."  
  
Zenyatta gently squeezed his shoulder, then lifted his legs into an effortless hover. As he drifted away he left one last sentence in the air;  
  
"You will not be alone when you are ready to receive it." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pardon any mistakes, gonna fix it over the next couple days, just really wanted to get this out by tonight since i work tomorrow. comments always appreciated!


	4. PTSD, I Choose You

  
In retrospect, it should have been obvious.

Zenyatta and Genji were practically inseparable. They were rarely seen without the other, for starters. Even when they were in groups they stayed as close to the other as possible - Zenyatta hovering serenely and Genji at his side. They were constantly touching as well. A hand resting on Genji's hip, an arm wrapped around Zenyatta's narrow waist, heads resting on shoulders, arms snug around the other from behind.... They were obvious, and in Hanzo's experience, as openly romantic as most of Genji's relationships were.

It was still strange, though. Zenyatta's faceplate was a blank slate at all times, so he mostly expressed himself through body language. He talked with his whole body, hands waving and dangling feet kicking, and it was no different with Genji. Hanzo didn't even need to know what they were saying - Genji would flirt, and Zenyatta would giggle, sandaled feet wiggling and hands flapping at the mouth-like seam of his face plate; Genji would surprise him with a hug from behind and Zenyatta's shoulders would shake with laughter, hands grasping at Genji's arms in the exact opposite of a discouraging manner; Zenyatta would return from a long training session and immediately find Genji, nudge him gently onto the nearest couch, and drape his thinly framed robotic body over Genji's lap, lights dim as he went into a light rest mode, Genji's hand smoothing up and down the outer seam of his signature orange pants as he softly talked with whoever was nearby.

Genji wore a helmet - or was that just his face now, save for his eyes? - at all times, but he, too, had obvious body language. He would perk up the moment he saw Zenyatta enter a room and dart over to him, hands extended, greedy for his master's touch; he would lounge dramatically over his legs as he recovered from a mission or training, his moans of despair growing more and more outrageous if only to earn louder laughter from Zenyatta; he'd sit on the floor in front of wherever Zenyatta hovered or sat, resting against his legs and all but melting into his touch as Zenyatta would smooth gentle fingers over his synthetic arms and shoulders, arching into his impromptu massage and purring with pleasure.

Hanzo had seen him with partners before, so it wasn't necessarily a new sight, but there was something different. With girlfriends and boyfriends in the past Genji was over eager to an off-putting degree, and while he was still very loud with his feelings for Zenyatta he still seemed.... cooled off. Like they'd been through that reckless honeymoon phase already and simply moved on to an incredibly affectionate, but matured, relationship.... Which was ridiculous. Genji's relationships ended with the honeymoon phase.

How long had they been together? How did it happen? Before or after Genji's apparent 'enlightenment'? The Omnic spoke pretty words, his voicebanks a warm rush of soothing, filtered calm, but was there any safety in his wisdom? His brother, always so careless with his heart.... was he alone in his feelings for the Omnic? Could the Omnic truly even feel? It had managed to delude itself into thinking it had a soul - was it so hard to believe it had done the same with love?

Despite his doubts the Omnic's words echoed through his mind. Help - as if he needed help, as if he deserved help. He would have been lying if he claimed that he didn't regret what he did to Genji. He knew it was a grave wrong, that even after Genji's survival his relationship with his brother would never be the same. Never. What he'd done to Genji.... he didn't understand how his brother could talk of forgiveness and new beginnings when Hanzo hadn't earned it, would never earn it. Genji's forgiveness mocked him, just as his relentless teasing, endless happiness in the present did as well. He acted as if nothing had changed, as if their past wasn't bloody and ruthless and tainted.

Hanzo was not so quick to forget.

\-----

The first time Hanzo tastes blood he is eight.

His father is furious, face morphed into one of pure rage, hands waving, violent and red. Hanzo flinches as his father waves at his little brother - only five - crouched into their mother's lap, sobbing. Hanzo didn't know how it happened, barely understood why he was in such trouble - his brother had been there in a moment, then gone. But they found him, and he was okay, and he'd never seen Papa so furious.

Hanzo trembled as his father wildly gestured at Genji's snotty face, his chill-pinked cheeks. "You are not a _child_ any longer, Hanzo!" Papa screamed. "When we place your brother in your care we are entrusting you with his life, Hanzo! His life, and the future of the Shimada clan! And you _dare.... TO BE RECKLESS!_ "

SLAP!

"Sojiro!" Mama shouted, and Hanzo fell to the floor, hard. His face bloomed with heat in a second that lasted an eternity, eyes wide and wet and body shaking. Copper filled his mouth moments later, and as he began to quietly sob he felt the soft skin on the inside of his mouth well with warm blood.

\-----

The hangar door slammed shut behind the six of them, Lena darting to the pilot's chair and panting heavily into the controls. They peeled away from the cliff-side with a heavy jolt - "Everyone hold on!" Lena called out. The ship jolted hard to the side, absorbing enemy fire and shuddering as they sped away. Hanzo slumped against the cold metal walls of the carrier, panting, and watched Lucio stumble over to the curled up figure of Hana Song to attend to her wounds.

Their flight stabilized and the six of them seemed to relax; Hanzo went to the nearest available chair and sat down, wiping his sweat-damp hair from his eyes. Too many close calls - too many risks.

It was a group he'd worked with before - Morrison, Hana, Lena, Genji, Lucio, and himself.It was easily the most dangerous mission Hanzo had taken on yet, but they'd been successful in the end. They'd been overwhelmed, completely overwhelmed, and barely made it out alive - and mostly in tact. Mostly.

Hana had suffered the most. She'd sent her self-destructing mech into a field of Talon agents in a desperate attempt to buy the rest of the team safe passage only to be caught in the back of her left shoulder by a stray bullet as she retreated so she could call down another mech. She likely would have died if Morrison hadn't stumbled upon her hiding in a corner, blood pouring from her jumpsuit - He'd ordered a retreat immediately - the objective was secured, their work was done - and it was the only time Hanzo could recall the commander sounding panicked.

Lucio hushed a whimpering Hana, nanobots and nimble fingers working in tandem as he tried to slow the bleeding and clean her wound. Morrison paced back and forth behind them, visor locked onto the two. The room was filled with a tense silence - Morrison's silent rage filled the cramped ship. No one spoke for fear of provoking him.

Then Lucio announced, "Alright, Miss Song, you'll be okay. Just be careful with it. Let the nanobots do the rest of the work."

Hana barely managed a thank-you before Morrison stomped up to her, yanked her up by her uninjured shoulder and started shouting. "What the _FUCK_ were you thinking?!?" He shook her, paying no mind to her flinching. Lucio held out his hands placate him, trying to calm their team leader down, but Morrison was relentless.

"That was the stupidest _fucking_ thing I have ever seen in my life! Not only did you put yourself at risk, you put the _TEAM AT RISK_!" With every word his voice grew louder and louder, and he towered over her, shouting into her face. Hana shrunk down, face bright red despite the blood loss, and her eyes prickled. "What if they'd captured you? What if we'd had to stay behind to save your ass?"

Hana clenched her hands into fists. "That wouldn't have happened," She tried.

"Yes it _fucking_ could have! This isn't one of your stupid video games, Song, this is the future of the entire planet in our hands! There are more important things than showing off and playing the hero, and _YOUR IMPULSIVE, RESTLESS, CHILDISH-_ "

Genji shot up from where he sat, darting towards the enraged Morrison and a wet-cheeked Hana and shoving his way between the two. "Jack. That's _enough_."

Morrison's chest heaved rapidly, his fists shaking, body trembling. He held Genjis gaze for a solid minute, then shouted up to Lena, "Take us down. Now." Lena began to protest, and Morrison snapped back, " _NOW!_ " Lena didn't try arguing a second time. The team watched in silence as Morrison snatched up his things. The moment the hangar door dropped open Morrison left with a gruff, "I'll be back in a week," as his parting words.

The hangar door shut, and the ship lifted again. Hana started crying.

Hanzo was uncomfortable. He didn't know Hana song - thought she was young, intelligent, yes, but perhaps not quite ready for the pressures of war. He busied himself with treating the minor cuts and bruises on his person; Lucio silently followed him to the corner table nook, first-aid kit in hand, and gave him a tight, mirthless smile.

Hana was still crying, and as Genji turned to face her Hanzo pretended to ignore them.

"Shh, shh. It's alright. Here, come sit," he said soothingly, an almost paternal note to his processed voice. He guided a sobbing Hana over to a wall and helped her sit, letting her lean into him and stifle her tears in his shoulder. It was obvious she was in pain now that the adrenaline was leaving her body; her body shook with the force of her tears, one hand clutching at her stained jumpsuit, but it seemed she was even more upset with Morrison's words.

"I'm not - I didn't do it t-to show off, I was juh - just trying to - " She hid her red face in his neck, and Genji nodded, hugging and soothing her.

"We know, Hana, we know. You took a calculated risk, and that's not a bad thing. Morrison knows that." He rested his covered head on the top of hers and sighed.

Genji rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles as Hana slowly relaxed, her cheeks pink and raw as she scrubbed a grubby palm over them. Genji helped her tie her hair up when she found it difficult to do so with only one hand, then helped guide her to lean against the wall. Hanzo hissed softly at the sting of antiseptic on a bullet graze on his shoulder, thankful for the distraction. Genji almost seemed... comfortable in such a pressured, responsible role.

"He'll apologize." Genji's tone was one of absolute certainty. Hana scoffed, doubtful. "He will," Genji insisted. "He was afraid, and that made him lash out - anger is just fear in disguise."

"Bullshit," Hana huffed. "You heard him. All he cared about was the mission and me wasting time. He wasn't scared for me, just.... pissed."

Genji's head tilted, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. Hana looked at him through her lashes, sniffing. "Morrison is a work in progress - there is blood on his hands that he has not yet made peace with. Fear is the driving force behind his anger, and there is little he is more uncomfortable with than fear. But he cares about you, he loves you, and when he saw you hurt he was confronted with his greatest fear."

Hana rubbed at her cheeks. She huffed "What's that?"

"Being completely, totally powerless."

Hanzo’s heart clenched in his chest. He screwed his eyes shut and turned his attention away from the scene.

\-----

Morrison apologized. He and Hana had lunch together not long after, and Hana's tinkling laughter filled the base once more, Morrison's gruff chuckles joining hers. 

\-----

"I don't know what I can trust."

Zenyatta's head rose from where it once hung, faceplate turning to the tense figure of Hanzo at his back. It was late again, back on that same patch of grass just outside of Gibraltar. Hanzo's hands were clenched into fists as he watched Zenyatta straighten up, rising effortlessly in his usual lotus hover, hands cupped loosely in his lap.

"I dislike that."

Zenyatta turned to face him properly, head tilting. "Naturally," his voice trilled. "You're a man most comfortable when he is in control."

Powerless. Completely, totally powerless. 

"Some moments he seems just the same as how I knew him. Childish, stupid. Then others...."

Genji's metal hand rubbing soothing circles into Hana's back, murmuring words of comfort into her ear.

".... Others he seems completely changed. I never knew what to expect of Genji when we were boys. I did not expect that I would know that even less now that we're men."

"Change is difficult," Zenyatta agreed. "Painful, at times. Genjis transformation was far from seamless." In more ways than one went without saying.

"But one can adjust. With Genji.... he is constantly shifting. Past and present endlessly swapping - I am on edge the moment I see him, unknowing of which Genji I will be faced with." Hanzo ran a hand through his hair, huffing, shaking his head.

"I feel that that is your problem, Mr. Shimada," Zenyatta replied. He reached out, rested a hand on his shoulder - Hanzo jolted, not expecting the contact, and tried to keep himself from yanking out of his grasp. "Past and present are not as separate as you might think. Time is a river - it flows like water, mixing and changing and merging together just as often as it parts."

"Past cannot merge with future. If such were the case I would have much to change." A murder to prevent. A future to unspoil.

"And yet its effects can last through generations." There was an odd warmth to his tone. He seemed almost pleased with the discussion - a philosophical Omnic, thirsty for a debate. "Is that not the past working in tandem with the present, the future?"

Hanzo couldn't say. "What does this have to do with me, with my brother?"

"Everything and nothing. I would be happy to explain, Hanzo, but you must be willing to listen." Hanzo watched him turn his back to him and sink back to the ground, ratty robes just barely brushing the grass below him. "Are you?"

An Omnic monk, offering him... what, mentorship? Therapy? An ear? Hanzo could almost hear his father's mocking laughter.

  
It enraged him.

It scared him. That bothered him most of all - that fear, even now. 

The chime of Zenyatta's orbs filled the late night air, a soft breeze sending the sound drifting through the night. His head bowed, deep in his meditation.

Hanzo hesitated for only one moment more before he went to his side. He sank to his rear, crossing his legs in one fluid motion as he went down. He cupped his hands in his lap. Zenyatta's faceplate tilted his way for a quick nod of acknowledgement - of acceptance. Hanzo mirrored him.

Together the night air soothed them, just as it had in the past, and just as it would in the future. 

**Author's Note:**

> updates on random sundays usually, but not weekly because the muse comes and goes as she pleases. any questions about progress or otherwise can be asked @ironbullthecuddlebug.tumblr.com


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